Month of Sundays (20 page)

Rachel put her hands on Jane’s shoulders as she started to cry. “Nothing’s going to go wrong. Colleen’s doing everything the doctors have told her to do. She’s doing great.” She ducked her head to try to force Jane to look her in the eye. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Jane shot her a guilty glance.

Fear made Rachel’s heart gallop in her chest. She tightened her grip on Jane’s shoulders. “What is it?”

“Colleen started spotting last week. Just one day, but it was the longest day of our lives. Her doctors say she and the baby are fine, but I’m not going to be able to relax until the baby’s born. Until I’m holding both of them in my arms.”

“Have you shared your fears with Colleen?”

Jane shook her head forlornly. “She’s under enough stress. I don’t want to add to the burden she’s already carrying. Her ob-gyn says she has to remain as calm as possible or she could have a placental abruption. She could bleed to death and the baby could die from lack of oxygen.”

Rachel wrapped her arms around her and held on tight. She thought of Colleen and the quiet strength she exuded that served as an inspiration for all who met her. If something were to happen to her, Jane wasn’t the only one who would feel the loss. She tilted Jane’s chin upward until her eyes met hers.

“Everything’s going to be fine. In two months, you’re going to have everything you’ve ever wanted: a wife, a son, and a kick-ass godmother at your beck and call.”

Jane laughed through her tears. “That was a pretty good pep talk. I’ll try to remember it when it’s my turn to give it to you. You’ll get everything you want one day, too. I know it.”

“I hope you’re right.” Wiping her eyes, Rachel tried to pull herself together. “We’d better get back before your better half starts thinking we’re carrying on a torrid affair.”

Jane took on the breathy tones of a
Dynasty
-era primetime soap diva. “I’ve always been hot for you. I don’t care who knows it.”

Rachel assumed the ramrod straight posture of an iron-jawed hero. “Be strong. We must resist temptation.”

She gave Jane’s shoulder another squeeze before they returned to the living room. She stayed a few minutes longer before calling it a night. She called Griffin on her cell phone as she headed to the subway station. The restaurant was probably a madhouse, but she needed to hear Griffin’s voice.

“I’m a little busy, Rachel,” Griffin said, her voice straining to rise above the cacophony of background noise. “Can I call you later?”

“Can I have a hug first?”

“What’s wrong?”

Rachel quickly filled her in on Colleen’s precarious medical condition.

“Give me a few minutes to wrap things up. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“No, don’t do that. This is a waiting game. There’s nothing any of us can do except cross our fingers and hope for the best. Now how about that hug?”

“Close your eyes. Rest your head on my shoulder. My arms are wrapped around you. My hands are stroking your back. Can you feel me holding you?”

“Yes.” Rachel could feel Griffin’s strong arms encircle her and pull her close. She felt Griffin’s hair brush against her neck. She could almost smell her cologne.

“Better?”

“Much, thank you. Go cook something before you forget how.”

“You got it. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

She wished she could say the same about Colleen without feeling like she was tempting fate by doing so.

“You don’t sound fine. I’ll come by your place after I finish up here.”

“You’ll be exhausted after your shift and our flight leaves at the crack of dawn. You don’t have to hold my hand.”

“I plan on holding much more than your hand. I’ll see you in an hour. No, make it two. I need to stop by my apartment first and pick up my bags so we can leave from your place in the morning.”

“You want to spend the night with me?”

This was new. Griffin was fanatical about sleeping in her own bed. No matter how late the hour, she always returned home at the end of the night. Rachel felt their relationship make another incremental turn. She would have preferred an exponential one, but she’d take what she could get.

“Do you have any objections to me sleeping over?”

“I can’t think of any off the top of my head.”

And she couldn’t think of anything better than waking up in Griffin’s arms.

*

Rachel clutched at the harness around Griffin’s hips, imploring her to quicken the pace of her strokes. Griffin refused to comply. Moments like this would soon become only a pleasant memory. She wanted to enjoy every second.

She braced her hands on the bed, her arms trembling from the effort of keeping her body aloft—from holding herself back. She wanted to come as badly as Rachel did. She licked her lips in anticipation. Her hips moved in and out. She gradually increased her rhythm. Faster. Faster. Then faster still. With each thrust, she drove deeper and deeper.

“Please.” Rachel clutched at her shoulders, her back, her hips. “Please, Griffin.”

She gave in to the yearning she heard in Rachel’s voice, the pleading in her eyes. She gave in to her own body’s demand for release. She lowered her head, grazed her teeth across one of Rachel’s nipples, took it into her mouth, and flicked it with her tongue.

Rachel growled her assent. Her back arched as if it were a bowstring being tugged by an expert archer. Then the string snapped. “Yes. Oh, yes.”

Griffin pressed tightly against her and closed her eyes as the long-delayed orgasm pinballed around her body. She shuddered when Rachel ran a finger down her back.

Rachel laughed, the throaty post-coital chuckle Griffin loved almost as much as the act itself. “My turn.” She rolled Griffin on her back and unbuckled the harness strapped around her waist. Then she reached for another toy from the treasure chest tucked under her bed.

“You truly are insatiable, aren’t you?”

Rachel licked the shallow pool of sweat that had formed in the hollow of Griffin’s throat. “Only when it comes to you. This is one of the last times we’re going to be together like this for weeks. I want to give you something to remember me by.”

Griffin smoothed Rachel’s tousled hair and held it away from her face. “You already have.”

Griffin was running out of time. If she wanted to guess where they were going, she needed to do it now. She wracked her brain for possible destinations. “Bermuda.”

“No.”

“Jamaica.”

“No.”

“Miami.”

“No. Do you give up yet?”

“No, because you’re enjoying this too much.” Griffin inched forward as the harried airline employee motioned for the next baggage-wielding traveler to exit the maze and approach the ticket counter. “Judging by the length of this line, I’ve got another fifteen minutes of guesses left.”

“But I don’t have another fifteen minutes of patience.”

Rachel handed her a copy of their itinerary. Griffin scanned the entries until she found their final destination. Newport Beach.

“I wanted to see one of the famous Sutton family clambakes for myself,” Rachel said. “Do you think you can help me out?”

Griffin couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat.

“From what I hear, we’re going to need enough food to feed an army. Clams, mussels, lobsters, potatoes, sausage, onions, and corn on the cob. Plus salad, dessert, and multiple bottles of wine. Tucker said he’d stock the pantry before we land, but you might want to—”

Griffin kissed her to stop the flow of words. “Thank you. This is without a doubt the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Next!” The ticket agent’s shout nearly drowned out Rachel’s whispered reply.

“Let’s get up there before he calls someone else.”

*

“We’re here.”

After the six-hour flight to California and the short drive from John Wayne Airport to Newport Beach, Griffin turned the rental car onto a quiet street and parked in a private drive. “Come on.” She grabbed Rachel’s hand and dragged her toward the beach.

“Don’t you want to unload the car first?”

“Unpacking can wait. I want to show you something.”

They walked toward the rock jetty on the west side of Newport Harbor.

“This is The Wedge.”

Griffin pointed at the water. Towering waves—some nearly twenty feet high—rolled toward the shore.

“It looks dangerous.”

“Only if you don’t know what you’re doing. The waves here break in one to two feet of water. Fall off at the wrong time and you could break an arm, a leg, or worse.” Griffin rubbed her hands together. “I can’t wait to get my board.”

Rachel shuddered as a powerful wave crashed against the rocks. The sound was like nothing she had ever heard. “I’ll stick to the shore, thank you.” They slowly walked back to the beach house. “When do I get to meet your family?”

Griffin’s smile faded. “I was hoping they would be waiting for us at the airport.” “I’ve sent a couple of text messages, but no one has responded. Let me try my mom one more time.” She pressed speed dial and held her phone to her ear. “Voice mail again.” She shrugged. “She’s probably on a photo shoot somewhere. We’ll catch up to them sooner or later.”

Sooner than you think.

Griffin popped the trunk on the rented convertible and retrieved the luggage. Trembling with anticipation, Rachel followed her up the front steps.

“How much did you pay for this place?” Griffin asked.

“Not as much as you think.”

“Are you sure? This place is practically a landmark.”

Rachel recognized the house. Two stories tall with ultra-modern furniture and a twenty-seat home theater, it had been featured in everything from
Architectural Digest
to
Coastal Living
. She felt like she was about to check into an exclusive high-end hotel.

Griffin turned the key in the lock and deposited her suitcase in the foyer. “Let me help you with that,” she said, reaching for Rachel’s bag.

“I can manage.”

“Let me—”

“Griffin, turn around.” Over Griffin’s shoulder, Rachel could see her family waiting to run into her arms.

“Turn around? What—” She spun as if an armed robber was sneaking up behind her.

The ensuing roar was so loud Rachel’s eardrums vibrated. “Surprise!”

Remaining rooted in place, Griffin looked back at her as if she was requesting permission.

“Go ahead.”

Griffin ran across the room and was immediately swept up by a sea of bodies. Her mother. Her father. Her brothers. Her sisters-in-law. Her nieces. Everyone took a turn giving her a hug. Some went back for seconds.

Tucker wandered over and gave Rachel a hip check. “And the award for best girlfriend ever goes to…”

“Thanks, Tuck. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let you forget it.”

Griffin crossed the room, her parents in tow. William Sutton was holding a worn Tickle Me Elmo doll that must have belonged to one of his many grandchildren. Madeleine Griffin Sutton was carrying her omnipresent camera.

“Mom, Dad,” Griffin said, her voice shaking with emotion, “this is Rachel.”

“Dr. and Mrs. Sutton, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Rachel held out her hand, but Madeleine pulled her into her arms instead. “I can see why Griffin has been raving about you,” she said, drawing back. “Thank you for bringing our daughter home.”

“You’re welcome.”

“That goes double for me,” Griffin’s father said, giving her a hug of his own.

“Thank you, sir.”

Everyone Griffin introduced Rachel to repeated her parents’ sentiments. Rachel felt like crying. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been made to feel so welcome.

About half an hour after their arrival, Ryan held up a carton of beer from a regional brewing company. “What do you say, sis? Want to split a sixer of Angel City with your brothers like you used to or do I need to find some of the fancy imported stuff?”

Griffin punched him in the arm. “Give me a break, bro. I haven’t changed that much.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

She looked at Rachel as if she didn’t want to leave her alone.

“Go ahead.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Griffin was barely out the door before four of her nieces surrounded Rachel and began peppering her with questions.

Layla, the wannabe actress, wanted to know all about Broadway, Times Square, and New York’s thriving theater scene. Her cousins’ questions were much more personal.

“Is it true you and Aunt Griffin met on a blind date?” Amber asked, her arms folded across her chest. Tracy and Shayanne mirrored her stance. They looked like Charlie’s Angels minus the feathered hair. “How’s that working out for you?”

“So far, so good.”